


Adrenaline (A Winter Soldier Fanfic)

by Famejecks



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action, Adrenaline, BAMF Original Female Character(s), BDSM, Blood and Gore, Drama, F/M, In Character, Kidnapping, Light Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Powerful Black Women, Romance, Sexual Dysfunction, Slow Burn, Strong Women, Winter Soldier - Freeform, mob boss, prisoner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Famejecks/pseuds/Famejecks
Summary: The last thing Miu, the head and founder of the International Raven Wing Gang, wants is to capture, torture, and brainwash a metal-armed, possibly insane, murderer of a 100-year-old man. In fact, she thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time. However, going up against all of her patrons, plus the young, impressionable heads of the various Feathers, is indisputably a death wish. And of course, nobody can catch this guy but her. She knows it, they know it, andhe’llknow it soon enough.The one thing that nobody counted on was what Miu would feel looking into those eyes again.And now, a taste…Has there ever been a moment in your life when time seemed to hang in the air? When everything shifted into slow motion? When your heartbeat reverberated in your skull and your ears popped and the blood in your veins turned to ice? Good. I don’t have to come up with some shitty metaphor to explain this moment to you.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

Has there ever been a moment in your life when time seemed to hang in the air? When everything shifted into slow motion? When your heartbeat reverberated in your skull and your ears popped and the blood in your veins turned to ice? Good. I don’t have to come up with some shitty metaphor to explain this moment to you. 

His eyes were not ugly eyes. They were not mean eyes or angry eyes or bloodthirsty eyes. But somehow, when he looked at me, time hung in the air, the world went into slow motion, my heartbeat banged against my chest and echoed in my skull… you know. It was that feeling. Black, icy fear and… something else. I looked up at him from where I lay at his leather-booted feet, and it raised the hair on the back of my neck and squirmed up my spine. It caught me in a chokehold and set my body on fire. It wouldn’t let me look away from those eyes. 

_Those eyes._

Even now that our roles are reversed, now that I am standing over him as he writhes below me in chains, I have this vague feeling like I’m back at his feet, choking back hateful slurs and pleas for my life. I am no longer afraid though. I have no reason to fear him. But I feel it, raising the hair on the back of my neck, crawling up my spine to wrap its molten fingers around my throat… I fear it. It makes me want to release him from his heavy chains and hurt him over and over until he can stop my blows and punish me for giving in to this feeling. This _need_ , this _desire_ , _those eyes_. 

I’m shaking. He’s staring at me, and I’m shaking. I sigh, take an unsteady step back. Those eyes follow me. I shake faster. He must think I’m afraid. I’m not. It’s something different, this feeling. Something else entirely.


	2. Chapter One

“We don’t need him.” 

I glare into the ice cold, silvery eyes of the man sitting directly across from me. His lips twitch under his tobacco-stained moustache. 

It’s said my glare can make a fully grown man piss himself. 

This is no ordinary man. 

“I don’t think _Your Highness_ realizes the benefits of an addition like this to our ranks,” the Duke Harding retorts. 

“I think what Miu means to say is that this could possibly be a waste of time and resources. We don’t even know if we can control him.”

I tip my head gratefully at Emory, my only ally among this court of fools.

“Furthermore, no intelligence agency has been able to find him since he started popping up _eighty years ago_. What makes you think that we can?”

My question hangs in the air unanswered as Harding hesitates. However, as usual, when Thing One can’t find anything to say… 

“With all respect, Duke Emory has access to more informants, data, and intelligence than any other person on the planet,” Duke Magnus points out, unfazed.

I’m not dumb. Harding has been gunning for my position at the top of this gang from the very beginning, Magnus at his heels like a hungry puppy. These two are the most dangerous persons of influence in the entire IRWG (International Raven Wing Gang), aside from me and Emory, who I’m lucky enough to have on my side.

“If her Queenship would only reconsi—” 

Vincent squeaks as I turn my glare on him. I allow myself to bask in brief self-satisfaction.

“I think it’d be wise to think it over,” Duke Gerard offers, looking at me pointedly. My fingers itch to snap his neck, my body aching to feel the life leave his body.

_Goddamn traitor._

I mask my bloodlust with a deadpan stare.

“We’ll reconvene next week as originally planned.”

“Make sure you bring me the right answer, _my Queen_ ,” Duke Harding says, stalking out of the Patron’s Court with a smirk and Magnus in tow.

I watch the Dukes leave with narrowed eyes, shooing Vincent away as he nearly trips out of his bow.

Once the riff raff has left, I turn to face Emory, his amber eyes piercing from across the table.

“You realize your position, don’t you?” he asks me.

“Of course. You seem to think me more stupid than I am.” 

“You’re the one who comes to me for advice.”

“And what does that say about _you_?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as his warm chuckle fills the room.

“What are your plans?”

“I have no choice. Wielding my Queenly power in this situation will only get me killed. Though, trust me, the last thing I want is another maniac running around this gang.”

“You seem oddly sensitive about that,” Emory comments offhandedly, resting his chin in his palm.

“Well, when this all goes to shit, who has to deal with it? _Me._ You try running an organization of testosterone-loaded idiots.”

He chuckles again. 

“I guess you have a point there.”

“So… are you going to give me any advice, or are you just going to continue to sit there all useless-like?”

“Why don’t I pour you a drink?”

“Slightly less useless.”

“Scotch?” he asks, standing and walking to the side table where crystal decanters holding liquids of all hues wait.

“Always.”

“You’re right about the no choice thing, but I don’t think the bare minimum is going to cut it in this situation.”

He adds ice cubes to one glass before reaching for the rightmost decanter. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, _compromise_. If you send any old Order to do this job, Harding will burst a blood vessel.”

“Seems like it’ll work out in my favor.”

Emory sighs as he pours a finger of scotch into the second, ice-less glass.

“Double it.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

I arch an eyebrow.

“Double it.”

He shakes his head but complies.

“Send the Alpha Order.”

“No. I refuse.”

“Miu.”

“I’m not allowing our best Knights to get killed on Harding’s whim.”

“It’s the entire gang’s whim. Or maybe you truly don’t understand your position.”

“It’s not that I don’t understand it. I just don’t care.”

He sets the glass in front of me.

“You can’t afford to not care.”

“Too bad.”

“I mean it, Miu. If you send another Order and they get killed, the Dukes will keep pressing until you’re forced to send the Alpha Order. Either way, good Knights are going to die.”

“No. It’s one thing if it’s my head on the chopping block, but—”

“Then send yourself.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” I laugh.

“I am… Sort of.”

Emory hesitates, his brow furrowing.

“Emory, don’t be stupid. If anything, that’s my job.”

“No, no. Think about it. You have more attack power than a small army of Alpha-level Knights and the capabilities of a detective super spy.”

“Stop making me sound like a videogame character.”

“Plus, you _can_ claim that you have a higher intelligence than at least two of those boneheads combined.”

He breaks out in hiccups of chipmunk cackles.

“Do you want me to punch you?”

The cackles continue. 

I down the scotch.

Still, more cackles. Emory holds his stomach, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s just—” he gets out between bursts of laughter.

“You know what? I don’t want to hear it. Have fun.”

I stand, making sure to leave my empty glass on the side table as I exit the room. 

_Send myself…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for deciding to read this story. Let me know what you think in the comments. I’m hoping I’ll be able to update this regularly on Tuesdays, so look out for more chapters then if you’re interested.  
> Famejecks

**Author's Note:**

> This work does include heavy suggestions of and actual instances of BDSM. It also addresses the sexual implications of PTSD. Chapters with explicit scenes _will_ have warnings. However, this story is just as much about the sex as it is about the action, romance, and drama. Not for the faint of heart.
> 
> Finally, this fanfiction takes place during that mysterious time in Bucky’s life between _Winter Soldier_ and _Civil War_.


End file.
